Arranged
by iamtheillusion
Summary: After becoming the wife of James Kirk in an arranged marriage, Eleanor sees her social anxiety rise to new heights. However, with the help of her new husband and a young Doctor Mccoy, will she be able to overcome it? And will she ever win the approval of the wild, troublemaking Kirk himself? RoyaltyAU
1. Arrival

The ballroom was filled with people, and I felt my breaths become more and more shallow as I fiddled with the lace on my simply decorated white dress. I bit down on my tongue and tasted blood.

"Are you ready, Eleanor?"

My focus snapped to my mother, who stood next to me, somber. She was no more happy about the situation than I was.

"Y—yes." I stumbled over the word when my gaze connected with the mass of people just down the stairs. So many people, crushing against each other, making me feel so choked.

And to top things off, I hadn't even seen him yet.

I didn't even know his name.

I knew only his reputation—one filled with women and alcohol and trouble, according to the reports.

That alone made another tremor run through me.

"It's for the best, darling," mother said, placing a final flower in the traditional wedding headband set in my hair. "It'll be alright. They speak very highly of him here."

"Of course they do, he's _theirs_." She brushed my arm gently and I tried to smile. "I'm sure it'll be fine, though."

"Good luck," she said, kissing my cheek. A display of affection that was void of any feeling. _She _was sending me into this. _She _was responsible for leaving me alone with a stranger.

I grimaced to myself and tried to ignore how cold my hands suddenly felt.

_My people will be happy now_, I reminded myself. _No more of them will starve. I am getting married for my people. _

I took the first step down the stairs, eyes straight ahead at the wall opposite from me as soft music drifted up from below.

Any soft murmurs that had been spoken were now replaced with a glass silence.

My stomach twisted as I finally found my way to the base of the stairs. The eyes that followed me felt like weight that I was trying to carry but was too heavy, and I was falling, falling, falling down into something that I couldn't get out of.

I ducked my head, wishing I could hide behind my curtain of long, brown hair; however, it was swept up on my head. No escape in sight.

I waited for him.

I dug my heels into the floor, and I _waited_ as my hands shook from being watched by all these people.

A pair of black boots appeared in front of my silver slippers.

"Please kneel." The voice was coming from my left; the priest must have come from behind me when I wasn't paying attention.

We both knelt onto the cool tile floors. I forced myself to glance up at him, even though I felt as if I might be sick.

When I looked up, he was already searching me, but his face gave away nothing about his feelings on the situation. His hair looked like sunshine, and his eyes were bluer than any I'd seen before. I was surprised that he didn't look older; at twenty-five, he was a good seven years older than I was. But my mother assured me that it could be worse—the man they had wanted to barter me off to had been fourteen years older.

I looked back at the floor just as quickly as I looked up. It was easier if I didn't regard him, or any of these people. Or the entire situation at hand.

The priest seemed to drone on endlessly, and even when I spoke 'I do' to the vows, it felt mechanical and forced. My eyes stuck to the floor. The gazes of the viewers made my skin crawl.

"You may now kiss the bride."

He lifted up my chin gently, before moving in and brushing his lips over mine. I pulled away first, my mind clouded with the fact that there were so many _people _and I had to _talk _to them after this.

I wasn't even concerned with the fact that I was now married.

That would work itself out in time.

This reception was much more of a current threat.

* * *

Once we walked back down the aisle, he stopped me, before the throngs of people came flooding into the reception hall.

"So, your name's Eleanor?"

I stood up as straight as I could, finally able to look him in the eye. "Yes, Sir."

"Don't call me Sir. Sir is for subjects, not my wife." He grinned easily. "It's Jim. Please."

I nodded, eyes on the ground again as soon as people began to mill in. My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt as if I might tip over if I tried to move. "I'll try to remember that, Jim," I murmured, taking my place next to him to greet the hundreds of guests that his family had invited.

No one from my colony had attended. Only my mother.

Time passed slowly, and I soon felt as if I was going to faint if I didn't breathe easily soon. Covering up social anxiety is not as easy as one would think.

I excused myself, saying that I needed to use the restroom, and locked myself into the single person room.

_My name is Eleanor Greyton—no. Eleanor Kirk._ I reminded myself, staring into the mirror, trying to breathe.

_I am eighteen years old. _

_I am now married._

_I am terrified._

* * *

After an eternity, the reception ended, and I was pushed off into Jim's room by maids who trilled and giggled over how handsome my new husband was.

My nerves were beginning to fray before I stepped into the room alone.

"Hello?" I called, unsure.

Silence.

Everything was still, save a small fire blazing in the fireplace near the window, which surprised me.

I had assumed he would be here already, but maybe he was just working on other, more important things. Things that were much more important than having relations with a very young, awkward new wife.

I felt small in this vast room, like a child who has stumbled into a place they don't belong in.

I had never been a child, though.

My hands shook as images of cold hands gliding across my skin took over my thoughts. I was not afraid, exactly—merely unprepared.

I knew nothing, and I _hated _knowing nothing.

I cleared my throat, trying to shake the thoughts out of my head, and sat on the bed that was far larger than was needed. Slipping my shoes off, I rubbed at my forehead, wishing that it was not so very _cold _on this planet all the time. It felt like a constant winter of some kind. I moved to run a warm hand down my neck when I froze at the sound of a voice.

A very _close _voice.

"Cold?"

The hairs on my neck stood up, and I dropped my hands into my lap quickly. I was nervous, but my training had manifested itself deep inside me. "No."

He walked around to face me, giving me a skeptical look. "You look...uncomfortable."

"I'm fine. Really."

He gave me an awkward smile and crossed his arms. "You're lying. It's obvious."

I bit my lip and looked away, knowing what was coming soon.

He sighed. "You know, I wouldn't force you to do anything. I'm not like that."

I searched him warily. I had heard of his reputation, and I didn't quite believe him, but I continued on. "I was brought here to form a bond between our planets by giving you sons. I understand my duty."

"You can understand something but not agree with it."

I ducked my head. "That's not for me to decide," I murmured.

He moved, sitting next to me, and brushed my arm gently. I suppressed a shiver. "Let me know," he whispered against my lips, "if you want me to stop."

He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, quickly moving to intensify. He did most of the work; I resigned myself to letting him do what he wanted until he was finished.

He hummed against me as he went further, and I gave him half an attempt. He moved to my neck, and I squeezed my eyes shut and tensed when he brushed the side of my body.

He moved away, but I didn't move. I was waiting for him to strike. For him to push me down and take me at that moment.

"You're scared," he said quietly.

I didn't move, or meet his eyes. "No."

"You look scared."

"I—I'm just nervous is all."

"Then I'm making the executive decision to stop." Getting up, he moved away from me. My skin prickled as his warmth left. "I'm sorry, I'll do better, please—"

"Don't apologize," he sighed, facing away from me and towards the fire, which burned on endlessly. "You're scared. That's fair. You've just been shipped off your planet to marry some prince you've never met before, who's almost ten years older than you and got a reputation for being a womanizer." He glanced over at my huddling form and grinned. "I don't want to rush you."

"But, the council—"

"The council doesn't have to know."

I nodded respectfully, trying somehow to convey how thankful I was that he was understanding. "I'm sorry. I'm sure there are a thousand girls out there who would rush at the chance to be with you."

He shrugged, fidgeting. "Yeah, well."

I kept my head down. Wondering what to do next. My training hadn't prepared me for this.

"Well then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." He bobs his head toward me as he moves to exit.

"Wait—I don't understand." This is not how this was supposed to go. Where on earth was he going?

"I'm going—out. You'll sleep better without me here anyway."

And then he was gone, just as quickly as he entered.

My brow creased as I realized that I was spending my wedding night alone, in someone else's room, on a planet days away from mine.

_If only I could stay alone in this room forever, all my problems might be solved._

* * *

**Hey guys! I'm not sure if i'm sold on making this into a full fledged fic-let me know if you like it and want to see more. Or, if you think this would work better as a Spock story/want to see a Spock story instead, I'll switch it.  
****Georgia**


	2. New Friends

Jim didn't come back that night.

The next morning, I woke up disoriented and alone in the almost garish room that was now mine. The sun was hardly up as I shifted my body to face the window, watching the sky.

How did I get into this?

I tried to think about the facts I knew about him, hoping that he'd come back today. It wouldn't look good for my colony if my husband disappeared the morning after his wedding.

_Jim wasn't always a prince, he probably isn't used to this_, I reasoned to myself. My mother had told me about how he had once been a fine young captain in the military before his older brother disappeared, and how he had been forced to return to Earth to train for his new role as king.

I assumed that he missed the freedom that the military and Starfleet had offered to him, and that was why he was the way he was. Maybe he simply felt like a caged animal.

That was fair.

However, if he didn't come back today _I _would have problems. And my colony of Reflection II had troubles enough.

* * *

Maids had entered quickly to dress me and sweep me off to breakfast, and I sighed a breath of relief as Jim walked in lazily.

His eyes were red, and his steps were unsteady.

"Gooood morning, Eleanor. You slept well, I presume?"

I bowed my head. "Of course. And yourself?"

He smirked at me, grin lopsided and loose. "Very, very, very well."

I wondered if he was still drunk. But I kept my composure.

We ate in silence.

* * *

For the next three days, I did not see Jim. It was as if he didn't even exist. Maids would let me know that he was 'attending meetings' or 'dealing with official matters' and had decided to 'take meals in his offices'.

I knew that he was most likely out with some other girl, or drinking with his friends—but it didn't bother me all that much.

I wasn't being forced out into groups of people to be presented, and he hadn't tried to force himself on me. If anything, things were going far _better _than I had expected.

I spent my time exploring, looking in and out of rooms. I had just made friends with one of the maids' cats—she was called Maureen, but secretly I just called her Cat.

On the third day, the sun had finally decided to come out, and I decided to go out with it. There were gardens behind the estate, and I hadn't been there yet, so I decided to take Cat and embark on an exploration.

The maids hadn't been lying when they said the gardens were vast. There were so many wings dedicated to different things, and I wanted to look through all of them. But when Cat decided to run towards the Cherry Blossoms, I couldn't help but agree that that was the best plan of action for us.

The flowers mirrored my feelings on the day as they hung, looking bright and beautiful and fresh. I sat down and leaned back onto one of the trees, surveying my surroundings and watching Cat play in the sun.

"You look like a bundle of sunshine."

My focus snapped to a man standing in the entryway to the wing, hands behind his back. His expression was serious, but thoughtful.

Worried, I stood up as quickly as I could. "I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't know I wasn't supposed to be here—"

His brow creased. "What? No, you're fine." He took a few steps forward. "Sit back down, would you? I didn't mean to disturb you."

Carefully, I took my seat again, watching him intently. "Can I help you?"

"Jim sent me to check on you. Make sure you were doing alright."

"Did he."

"Yes."

I nodded slowly, wondering what prompted Jim to do this. "And who do I have the pleasure of acquainting myself with now?"

"Mccoy. Leonard Mccoy. I'm the doctor around here."

I was trying to be sociable, but I still didn't understand why he was _here_, checking on me. "Do you want to sit?"

He shook his head. "No, no, I'm fine."

The silence was awkward and still. Cat played easily.

"He didn't send you, did he."

He looked over at me for a few moments before shaking his head. "I wanted to make sure you were alright. He's been ignoring you. I know, I'm his best friend."

"Now we're getting places." I smiled. "Keep going, please."

"I'm sorry about him, he's still—adjusting, to the idea that he's married now."

"Oh, I don't mind."

"He's still pretty—what?"

"I said, I don't mind."

He seemed taken aback. "You don't mind that your husband is ignoring you? Going out to get drunk, sleep with other women, and who knows what else?"

I shook my head lazily, leaning completely back into the trunk of the tree. "Not particularly. He hasn't been cruel, so it's been alright."

"Maybe you two were a better match than I thought," he muttered.

"Doctor Mccoy," I asked. "Why do you care?"

"Because," he paused, before finishing, "this is exactly why my wife left me."

I straightened up quickly. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, no, none of that. It's over now. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Nodding, I answered, "Well, that's very kind of you."

"My pleasure. If you don't mind, I'm gonna head back, somebody's probably sprained something in this time—"

As he turned to leave, I called over to him, "I hope I can see you again, Doctor!"

He turned to look at me as if I had grown a third head. "Why the hell would you want that?"

"Because I have no friends here," I answered honestly. If I was going to be honest, it might as well be with him.

His face broke out into the slightest of smiles. "Well—I guess I'll be seeing you, then."

I watched him walk off, and I hoped that maybe we could get along.

But for now, it looked as if it was just me and Cat against the world.


	3. Colors and Unexpected Visitors

After another two days without Jim, I was hopelessly and utterly bored. I had always imagined married life as _busy_—taking care of various smaller tasks, convincing my husband of issues that I was here to fight for, and whatever else he needed me to do. Never like _this_. Sitting in chambers for hours upon hours picking at needlework, reading, and whatever else I could find to do.

On the afternoon of the second day, I set off to find something, _anything_ to do.

I stalked down hallways and stairwells, hoping not to get caught in case I wasn't supposed to be doing this, and searching endlessly for something to catch my attention.

I ran into no one. Which was good. My skin prickled at the thought of running into a large group, but I forced my mind to let it pass; there would be no groups out on a Thursday afternoon.

I skittered past a door marked _medical _before backing up to look at it. I wondered absentmindedly if the young doctor would be in there and decided that it'd be the worth a try.

I knocked.

"Who the hell—" I heard muttered from inside before the door opened to reveal just the person I was looking for. He looked surprised and vaguely annoyed to see me. "What do you want?"

"Hi," I started nervously. This was not starting off how I wanted it to. "Um, hello. Hi."

"Hi," he replied gruffly, looking at me as if I'd grown a second head. "Why're you here."

"I—I was—I—"

"Spit it out!"

"I was wondering if you wanted company."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Company."

"Yes."

"...does Jim know?"

"I haven't seen my husband since the day after our wedding."

He seemed taken aback. "Are you serious?"

"Not once."

He rolled his eyes and stepped back to let me into what I now assumed to be his quarters. They were a tad larger than mine to accommodate for his workspace, but for the most part the room was plain and practical. "Let's not tell anyone you were in here, alright? A scandal's the last thing I need on my hands."

"Sure, of course," I said absentmindedly as I ran my hand along the length of the dresser. Everything was neat and even, in an unspoken perfect order. I wondered if he kept everything in his life as pristine as his room.

"So, you don't have anything to do, I'm guessing?"

His question pulled me out of my distraction. "You caught me," I admitted. "There's absolutely nothing to do. I have no responsibilities and nothing to keep my mind occupied. It's—frustrating. Nothing like what I was dealing with last month before I got here."

"Which was?"

"Running a colony, basically."

He gestured to a seat near his workspace and I sat down as he continued on with the task he had been doing before I arrived. "That's a lot for a—what, seventeen year old girl?—to handle," he said.

"I'm eighteen, thank you."

"My apologies," he replied sarcastically.

"And it was good training for what I _thought_ I would be doing here. Convincing my husband to throw in more support for my colony. But he's never here which makes my only task rather difficult."

He looked up at me with a knowing look. "Jim seemed to think that you didn't want him around."

"I didn't—he didn't—" my face was flushed as I tried to answer. "He told you about that?"

He nodded.

"I didn't mean to be nervous, it just _happened_."

Shrugging, he went back to his work. "Still, if you'd been a little more eager, it'd be easier to convince him of what you want."

I sighed, slouching in desperation. "Well, _I'm sorry_ I don't have the kind of experience he does."

"Yeah, Jim's got a lot of that." He grinned, looking as if he was almost going to laugh.

I looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Can I ask you something?"

He looked up from his work questioningly.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Red. Why do you ask?"

I smiled to myself. "You know, you can find out a lot about a person by how they answer that question."

"Oh really."

"Yes, really. If they refuse to answer you, or ask why first, you ought to run away from them as fast as you can. Because that means they're absolute cynics and _impossible _to be around." I paused, thinking over my words. "But if they answer you, and then ask why, then they've got a little bit of an imagination, but their feet are still on the ground. That's the best kind of way to be."

He snorted. "Uh-huh. And you're telling me that we're best friends now because I answered your color question correctly?"

"Well, friends, at least."

* * *

That night, I was up late, reading on a book that Leonard had let me borrow. It was called _The Great Gatsby_, and it was ancient according to him. I was deep into it, completely enthralled in this world where everything seemed exciting but inwardly was collapsing.

"Hey."

My eyes tore off the page and onto Jim, who stood close to the door. I pulled the sheets a little closer to my chest. "Hello."

"Can I come in?"

"Of course, Sir—I mean James—"

"I'm not drunk or anything—"

"I mean, this is your room too."

"Right."

The silence was awkward and still. I shifted under the sheets.

"I was wondering, if I'd be alright if I slept in here?" He paused, but continued before I could respond. "I won't try anything. I just wanna sleep."

"Right, of course," I nodded as he walked closer to the bed. He stopped by the closet to pick out clothes to sleep in before moving to the bathroom to change.

Well, this was...unexpected.

He emerged soon, wearing loose pants and no shirt.

I could feel the blood rushing up my face.

"Do you prefer right or left side of the bed?" he said, snapping me out of my embarrassment.

"Uh—whatever you don't want, I'll take."

"I guess I'll take right?"

He climbed in, and I sunk down onto my pillow to lie down, facing away from him and trying not to let him know how nervous I was.

It was quiet in the room except for the sounds of our breathing.

I couldn't help but feel a shiver run through my spine at this new, close proximity between us. He was so _close_. I could've sworn that I could almost feel his body heat even though he wasn't touching me. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to move.

"You know, you can relax. I'm seriously not gonna do anything. I'm gonna sleep. That's it."

"Okay," I nodded, slowly relaxing, falling deeper and deeper into sleep.

And just before I fell asleep, I felt his hand brush mine.


End file.
